


sleep-deprived disaster councillors being gay on a roof

by SemperAeternumQue



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, M/M, No beta we die like Kenric, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Self-Esteem Issues, also they do a lot of kissing so if thats not your deal maybe dont read this, brony is a fun ship to write, dont ask why theyre on a roof at 6 am idk either, fics that make you wonder if the writer is okay, im ace though so all the kissing is badly done, in his damn life, lets just say bronte has never had a good time of it, listen just take your fucking brony and go, this is quite possibly some of my best writing and im mad about it, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: basically a god-awful getting together scene for the iconic ship of brony bc im a mess. Anyways im too tired to summarize so read the tags please. Also yes they are gay they are sad they are on a roof together for some reason. This totally makes sense.
Relationships: Councillor Bronte/Councillor Emery (Keeper of the Lost Cities)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 25





	sleep-deprived disaster councillors being gay on a roof

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to credit the iconic Hopelessly_Queer for getting me invested in what was never supposed to be a serious ship, now i cant stop thinking about these dumbasses. anyways uhh they do discuss like parent issues and also death and also self-esteem issues because i cant do fluff so be warned.

“You know,” Bronte said softly, “once I fancied myself none too alike Oralie.”  
  
“How so?” Emery found himself watching he other’s every little movement, eyes occasionally darting back to Bronte’s lips or the infinitely tiny gap between their hands. 

“I always thought I would never fall in love.” Emery gave a quiet little gasp, but Bronte went on. “In Eternalia, when Fintan and I were young, he got into love triangles and drama and all sorts of things. I never did. And I grew up, I watched Councillors step down for love, and I watched my two best friends refuse to. I saw what Oralie suffered, and...selfish though I may be, I did not want that fate for myself.”

“Who would?”

“Who indeed? Besides a fool who fell in love for the the first time and found love to be stronger than fear of that fate.”

“Do you call yourself a fool?” Emery’s heart was beating quicker.

“Do you call me one?” Bronte stared off the edge of the roof, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “I am one, perhaps. I never anticipated this, of all things.”

“The future is impossible to predict, although many have tried.”

“True. Even the most confident of beliefs can be proved wrong. And even I can be proven a fool.”

Emery hesitated. “Dare I ask whose love could make you foolish?”

“I think you already know,” Bronte murmured.

Emery glanced down again, finding Bronte’s scarred hand hovering over his as if reaching for him. “I suppose so.”

Aforementioned hand reached a little further, taking Emery’s hand and squeezing it. “I would not be a fool for just anyone.”

“Is _this_ your way of telling me that you love me?”

“Did you expect romance and flowers with me? I don’t even believe in happy endings.”

“I’ll make you believe,” Emery swore, suddenly needing to protect the elf before him more than anything else. “I’ll find us a happy ending.”

“Good luck with that,” Bronte muttered. 

“I _will_. And...in the meantime...I don’t suppose you’re in the market for a boyfriend?”

Bronte laughed a little. “Technically, I am not. Councillor and all. But I’d make an exception for someone I’m a fool for.”

“Hm. Well, then would you be mine?”

The other shook his head, and Emery’s heart plummeted. “I...can promise part of me. I cannot promise that most of my strength will not go to protecting our world, and I cannot promise you will always find me lovable. I am not Oralie. I do not know how to be soft or gentle or loved. My life has always pushed me down, and I worry I’ve forgotten how to offer a hand up.”

“I will love you regardless.”

“Will you love me even if I do not know how to love myself?”

“Yes.” Emery didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Always.”

"Then I am yours."

Emery's breath caught at the words."And I will love you always."

"And I will love you even if it makes a fool of me," Bronte murmured. "Regardless of if I deserve your affection."

"You do." Bronte tried to turn away, but Emery caught his free hand so he was holding both of Bronte's hands. "You really do."

The older Councillor seemed vaguely frustrated. "I am old and broken and scarred, Emery. Why would you love me?"

"You presume your scars make you any less beautiful." Emery lifted Bronte's hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the long scar running across the back of one. "I am no shallow elf, nor am I young, Bronte."

Bronte sucked in a shuddering breath, but said nothing.

"I do not love you regardless of what's happened to you, nor do I love you because of it. Your scars are simply a part of you, a part that I love like any other." To add emphasis, he kissed a pockmarked scar near Bronte's wrist.

The other's eyes were glimmering with tears, and his voice was rough when he asked "Emery?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up." Before Emery could respond to that, Bronte had leaned in and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Emery's own. 

"You can't just kiss your way out of this," Emery gasped when Bronte pulled back, but there was no force in the words.

"Somehow, I don't believe you." 

Emery did not resist when Bronte leaned in to kiss him again, and again. Bronte was not an exceptionally skilled kisser, not for all his many years, but his hands were warm where they cupped Emery's face, and he kissed like he meant it, so really, what more could Emery ask for? He pulled back, though, when he saw that the tears in Bronte's eyes hadn't gone away. "Bronte, stop."

The other obliged. "Why?"

"It's not that I don't want to kiss you, but I need to make sure you're _okay_."

"Have I ever seemed okay?" 

"Well, not really," Emery admitted. "But now you're crying."

"As I've said, I am...not used to being loved. Nor have I ever believed myself worthy of it." Bronte laughed bitterly. "My parents made sure of that. So no, it's not your fault. It's just...overwhelming."

Emery was almost startled by the red-hot anger that shot through him. "Well your parents were wrong. Were always wrong. You deserve the world."

"I wish I could believe that."

"I'll say it every day, if you need." Emery reached for Bronte's hand again, gently. "And we don't have to go quickly. We're elves. We have nothing but time."

"You and I both know that's not true."

"No, but it does make for a pretty lie."

"It does." Bronte squeezed Emery's hand. "Maybe...maybe we'll have _enough_ time."

"Enough time to figure out this trainwreck," Emery couldn't help but mutter. "Believe it or not, I'm not any good at any of this."

"Ha. As if I am." Bronte stood, offering Emery a hand up. "Come on, my dear Emery. We have meetings to attend and things to do."

"Can't we just stay here forever?" Emery whined, but he took Bronte's hand up.

"We have to be Councillors now, we'll be gay later," Bronte told him unapologetically.

Emery almost fell off the roof laughing, saved only by Bronte's quick reflexes.

"Are you *trying* to get us killed?"

"No, I'm just laughing at the very funny joke my boyfriend just made."

Bronte flushed again at that and quickly led him back to the window they had climbed out of. "You, Emery, are a dreadful flirt."

"Well it's working, isn't it?"

"And I hate that it is." Bronte turned to help Emery through once he had made it through the window himself. 

Emery took his hand again, smiling. "I love you."

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to see a lot of bronte shitposts come follow me on my kotlc tumblr @bronte-deserves-better. if you do not want to see bronte shitposts, i advise avoiding my tumblr. also i break up those shitposts with heart-wrenching pyren bros angst. fair warning.


End file.
